


Roaming the Greenwood

by colorofmymind



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster
Genre: F/F, Gays in Love but They Don't Know How to Support Their Community, Intersectionality Issues, M/M, My Version of an Epilogue, Set in 1934, Slight Canon Divergence, Social Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: Kitty discovers two men so very similar to herself and her friend, but their differences cannot be reconciled.





	Roaming the Greenwood

**Author's Note:**

> This idea obviously comes from Forster's concept for a potential epilogue with Kitty, Maurice, and Alec; while I am aware that there is an existing version of this epilogue, I wanted to explore some of the nuances of Maurice's and Kitty's characters, especially Kitty since we see/read so little of her in the film/novel. 
> 
> This also serves as some steaming hot commentary on class privilege with lesbians who identify as sapphic versus those who are more comfortable with dyke and less intellectual terminology. I also try to address early gatekeeping in the mlm community, which you will hopefully see what I mean in a bit. I feel like Forster's oversimplification of the female characters in his novel (like saying Kitty would immediately disapprove of Maurice/Alec, which serves no other purpose than being a mouthpiece for society rather than being her own character) stems from his misogyny, and I wanted to address that through this fic. 
> 
> While this novel was Way ahead of its time and so important, it's exclusively focused on a gay male narrative and thoroughly assumes all women are attracted to men; plus my lesbian brain couldn't help but ship Kitty and Violet after Kitty *brought her friend home* in chapter 29 much like Maurice had many times with Clive, no? And Kitty never marries in the novel so this could totally happen. I am aware Violet is not a character in the film and that she was not mentioned in Forster's epilogue, but I added her anyways. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think of my version!

The sanguine greenwood, unkempt, looming, and ancient in its prowess reminded Kitty very little of the pristine and bordered Domestic Institute she once attended as a girl. She said as much to her Violet, with whom she walked arm in arm. 

“That’s why I suggested we take our walk here. There’s a privacy to this place unlike any other in England,” her friend said intelligently. 

Always a fanatic for learning, Kitty never minded the way in which she was continually reeducated by Violet. Goodness knows their heads were filled with nothing but rubbish at that girls’ school where they met so long ago. 

“I should think that would be ideal for our purposes, don’t you think?” 

Needing no further prompting, Kitty took Violet’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly, her pert, soft lips melting into Kitty’s own. Their kisses were languid and unhurried, neither passion or fear of discovery propelling them forward. Their bodies were comfortable and attuned to each other, and Kitty began to stroke Violet’s cheek gently with her fingers while her lover’s arms circled round Kitty’s waist. Their love was practically palpable in the air, chorused by birdsong. 

Of course, it would only be when Kitty was contemplating leaving daring violet marks upon Violet’s neck that a _thwack!_ noise unidentifiable in the deep woods startled them and had them apart immediately, smoothing down their skirts consciously. 

“Couldn’t have been an animal, I suppose,” Kitty surmised, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it to calm her nerves. All her friend had to do was extend her hand, and Kitty placed one between her proffered fingers, cupping the lighter as it set the cigarette alight before Violet brought it to her deliciously wet, swollen lips. 

“It’s likely a hunter,” Violet said after taking a long drag. “Although they shouldn’t be this close to town. We really ought to tell them off before they kill one of us by accident.” 

“Really Violet, you say the most morbid things,” she admonished lightly even though she liked it. 

Her friend rebutted her firmly still. “I say the most morbid things about men, you should note. I radiate perfect pleasantness when I speak of any other subject, especially you, my dear.” 

Kitty scoffed, knowing this was meant to mollify her. A teasing remark came to mind, and she could not help but pursue it. “The hunter could be a woman. You don’t know.” 

“As if! A gentle lady or a woman of lower rank in our society would never. I doubt even if we Socialists were to have our way women and men would all occupy the same positions. Besides, it goes against our teachings at the Domestic Institute. I think Miss Forster would have a conniption if women were to take the traditional places of men.” 

“We did in the Great War,” Kitty contested. “I think anyway that Miss Forster would have a conniption if she saw what we’ve shared in the woods. And in dormitories, and our bedroom…” 

Kitty was unable to finish this thought as they both burst into giggles unceremoniously at the thought of the red-nosed, severe, Christian-suffering school marm discovering they were disciples of Sappho and Radclyffe Hall. 

Twigs snapping in the near distance sobered their newfound mirth, however, and again they were on guard. The sounds were closer than before, and the women sought out each others’ hands for reassurance, choosing to hide behind some towering shrubs. Once the figures could be seen through a small parting in the bushes, Kitty realized they hardly had any need to be worried. Two woodcutters lumbered through the greenwood, and somehow it seemed as though the men belonged there and always had, like the trees that shrouded the four of them, herself, Violet, and the woodcutters, altogether from the prying eyes of society. There was something so familiar in the gait of the one man, perhaps the color of his hair as well, but Kitty simply could not place it in that peculiar moment. Transfixed as she was, she was equally disgusted. It was very rare that she had to encounter anyone outside of clean-cut suburbs, and the result produced in this instance had her distressed at how unabashedly dirt and filth clung to their clothes, how they were so uncaring of how they were perceived. It seemed simultaneously a great mistake and privilege they held unlike a woman of her upbringing. 

The one man with curiously curly hair turned to his companion in confusion. “I could’ve sworn I’s smelt smoke in bout these parts.”

“Well, I see no fire or any indication of one. I think we’re in no danger today, Alec,” the other replied, in a voice much more polished and well-bred, finishing with an endearing smile.

“If there’s was someone or other, I’d chase ‘em out. This place belongs to you and me alone, _sir_ ,” the last word placed with some kind of emphasis, an inside joke or tell Kitty could not understand. The fair-haired man threw back his head and laughed mirthfully. He wrapped an arm around his shorter fellow’s shoulders and staggered on out of the clearing deeper into the green. 

It was clear the nature of their relationship, a friendship tinged with illicit intimacy, a dynamic she knew all too well. But there was something about the two, of their status (or lack thereof) and immediate call to seek out and identify, as though the greenwood was theirs alone. It did not settle well in her stomach at all. Silently, she turned to Violet, pressing a finger to her own lips to indicate they should leave this place quietly. It was evidently never meant for them in more ways than one. 


End file.
